Monette's Musings

CART Captioning And The $10,000 Spaghetti Dinner – Monsignor Balty Janacek

Author: monette | Category: CART/captioning, Deaf, Hard of Hearing, HLAA, HOH, Interpreter, late deafened, Oral Deaf, religious events, Remote Interpreting, Sign Interpreters, Tutor | Tags: Court Reporting Whisperer, Tutor & Empowerment Coach

CART Captioning And The $10,000 Spaghetti Dinner

~~ Originally published in my column “Beyond The Comfort Zone” within NCRA’s Journal of Court Reporting, JCR
By Monette Benoit, All Rights Reserved

The CART (Communication Access Real-time Translation) community and all court reporters lost a devoted friend on April 30th, 2007. My life was improved by this gentleman. Our profession was improved by this special person.

I had been CARTing San Antonio’s St. Francis Di Paola Deaf Mass for many years.

One Sunday morning before mass, a new priest introduced himself to me as I prepped to CART caption. He spelled his name B-a-l-t-y.

He waited for me to stop writing to shake my hand (I was CARTing with my steno machine). I captioned his words to the large screen. This special man charmed parishioners with this gesture.

He waited for me to return my hands to the steno machine. Then the new priest walked to the altar, and introduced himself to the Deaf community, “I’m the new priest and will learn sign.”

We welcomed “the new priest” with deaf applause.

Balty was proud of his Czech background. He had a deep love of cultures and languages.

He often spoke Spanish while I realtimed – writing verbatim text projected to a large screen on the altar from my steno machine.

I’d sigh; he’d smile, then translate.

As we became friends, I learned Balty was ordained in 1950.

Serving multiple roles he was devoted to causes close to his heart.

Balty remained involved with Native Americans and tirelessly worked to mediate retrieval of their remains, bones, from the University of Texas at San Antonio, UTSA.

I am not surprised that he donated his body to UTSA.

Balty was parochial vicar at San Fernando Cathedral (where Davy Crockett is buried).

Since 1967, he was director of four 18th-century Old Spanish Missions for the Archdiocese (the active parishes of Concepcion, San Jose, San Juan, and Espada Missions).

Balty established the San Antonio Mission National Historical Park and a historic cooperative agreement with the National Park Service, which the NPS is working to model around the United States.

His picture was in our newspaper so often that I’d phone Balty teasing him that he was my “Where’s Waldo?”

Balty was absolutely devoted to his extended family, organizing Schulenburg, Texas, reunions with nieces and nephews.

I extended multiple holiday invitations, but he’d say, “I want to spend time with the girls (nuns). I’ve known many for 50 years; they’re good cooks. Can you understand?” Yes.

Much later when he handed me his business card, I saw his title Monsignor Janacek. I almost gasped. Me, “I didn’t know …”

He shrugged, “Balty – really.” Balty was the “jolly” man who arrived with his peace sign.

One Sunday, Balty asked my former husband and me to lunch.

He asked me what I needed to CART for the Deaf. (CART is communication access realtime translation).

I used my equipment writing to a large screen with instant translation – known as ‘captioning’ to many – for the Deaf mass.)

[Former] husband’ did not hesitate, “Her equipment is seven years older since she began to volunteer. She has wear and tear on her equipment.”

I blinked, immediately swallowing warm Black Eyed Pea cornbread.

Balty smiled, “How much would it cost for the church to purchase new equipment? Monette, could you use our equipment?”

Balty and [former] husband wrote numbers on paper napkins as I watched. I had stopped eating. We sat in the booth – a busy Sunday restaurant. I leaned my elbow on the table, silent. Watching. Balty smiled the entire time.

Then Balty turned to me, “How about $10,000? Would that work, Monette? What do you need? The Christopher Columbus Society is having their spaghetti dinner. I’ll ask them.”

Lunch was wonderful. We never ventured back to the topic as we laughed and enjoyed our time together that sunny day.

Church members were accustomed to me rushing up aisles 15 minutes before our Deaf mass.

To prep equipment, I darted around people praying, families posing for pictures after baptisms and other church events.

Parents and parishioners prevented small children from playing with my equipment, understanding my frantic movements each Sunday.

Soon Balty called me, “They agreed!”

This yearly ‘spaghetti dinner’ is famous in our city – seventh largest in the U.S.

Politicians and judges arrive to shake hands. All spaghetti is homemade; all you can eat.

I attended and was thanked by lines of volunteers who stood behind long tables -in a row- serving guests and individuals who purchased tickets.

Balty waved to me as I stood in line – signing, joking. I ‘was receiving’ my hugs, hand and shoulder rubs (a Deaf ‘thing’).

Then, Balty sat at our long table as we ate our spaghetti. He was busy laughing, listening, enjoying the very busy event.

Soon, Balty purchased all my hardware and court reporting software.

I prepared paperwork; he cut checks. We were a good team.

The Deaf community was thrilled everyone supported their community.

I have wonderful memories of Balty.

I fondly remember when Balty casually commented that women should have rights to become priests. (His predecessor preferred ‘only’ Latin masses and fasting. Truly.)

I paused before stroking “those” words that I heard Balty voice.

Parishioners paused, too – looking to my large screen, narrowing their eyes. My hands poised above my steno keyboard,

Balty looked at me and slowly nodded.

As I realtimed his words, Balty paused, too.

After a long silence, people coughed, looked to one another, then looked up to my (large) screen displaying (large) upper-cap text.

Soon, small groups stood. Ever so slowly, individuals and small groups side-stepped to the center aisle.

They gave him one slow final look before each quietly and politely exited the church that morning.

Later I teased Balty, “Well, you won’t be seeing the front of their faces any time soon. Before you arrived, standing room only. Now? Wide open spaces.” He smiled, eyes soft.

Balty was not “just a Sunday person.” I phoned Balty when remarkable events occurred.

I was honored how he shared his life – on and off the record. I became protective of Balty as he detailed his world, expanding mine.

In 2000, I moved away from San Antonio. (I returned 2002.)

The National Court Reporters Association’s, NCRA, 2001 mid-year convention was in San Antonio. I flew in, immediately called Balty, “I’m up the road” after I registered in hotel.

Balty instantly recognized my voice, “Monette, hi; I’ll hurry this wedding rehearsal and be right there!”

The hotel lobby had open seating. As we were seated, Balty ordered “two glasses of your finest wine.”

He raised his glass and began singing to me. Balty had a deep melodic voice; he sang in Spanish.

Balty did not lower his voice; crystal wine glass held high, he sang. Not to a person seated a few feet across from him. Balty sang as if he was singing to a congregation. True.

Stunned, I watched others watch me before I relaxed, listening. When Balty finished, he raised his glass higher, toasted me.

I leaned across the small table, whispered, “I don’t understand what you just sang. It sounded beautiful.”

Balty laughed, “Monette, I sang a love song to you.”

I blinked hard. No words. A. Really. Hard. Blink.

Balty smiled, “I sang this song to thank you for all you’ve done. I sang so you will always remember this moment.”

I mumbled soft, “I’m sure I will …” He kept his crystal glass raised until I raised mine; we toasted together. I said, “I will always remember. Promise.” He nodded, proud.

As we dined, court reporters trolled and stopped to chat at our table.

(Balty wore a solid black shirt. I watched Balty remove his white collar the moment he entered the hotel. I teased him about being off-duty.)

Bill Weber was incoming NCRA president. His board of directors had driven into the Hill Country to film a movie for his induction.

I proudly introduced NCRA directors, many wearing country overalls, to “the man who raised $10,000 with spaghetti to purchase CART equipment.”

Every court reporter thanked him. Oh, how Balty laughed and smiled. His eyes twinkled; he enjoyed every moment.

Hours later, court reporters stood at the elevators waving good-bye to my friend – their new friend Balty, B-a-l-t-y, he would spell his name.

Balty waved – waiting for me to get into an elevator. I waved – waiting for him to leave. And we met more people at those elevators.

He and I waited for the other to turn.

We spent hours -hours- at the elevators talking, laughing and having great fun as I introduced Balty to many friends.

Court reporters still comment on that moment when they see me.

When diagnosed with leukemia, Balty was optimistic.

I’d phone his private cell phone; he’d answer, “Hi, Moe-net!”

I could hear Spanish in the background, and he was frequently in a southside clinic “waiting to be seen.”

Once I joked that he’d spent more than 50 years visiting hospitals – perhaps he could get an appointment.

Softly Balty said, “Monette, I’m with my people; this is where I want to be.” Ahhhh. Yes. Mea culpa.

I encouraged Balty to record his memoirs.

I wanted one tape for the church and another detailed version for his family, describing historic, momentous events he transformed.

I teased him that he should have a glass of red wine. He should sip, sit, talk. I knew his family would want these tapes.

We kept in touch as Balty rounded the last corner of his life.

I would phone his cell phone, and we would laugh and listen to the other.

I always had his name on my to-call list. Each Monday, I put his name on my list.

His last Sunday, April 30, 2007, I had phone in hand dialing his number that afternoon when I was distracted to a family moment. I put the phone down.

I knew I would find the time to phone him. His name remained on my list.

I did not know that Balty recently left his archdiocese apartment.

Alone, he checked into hospice.

I did not know he had few visitors.

That Sunday he “snuck out to a Mexican restaurant with his family; nuns looked the other way.”

Later, he watched Spurs basketball on TV – they won.

Monsignor Balthasar Janacek died that night, 80 years of age.

I learned from his family, “When the nurse checked on him at 3 a.m., he was cold, talking in Czech.

A little while later he was speaking in English to his mother. He said, ‘Mom, I don’t think I am going to make it.’”

Balty’s card remains in my wallet. I haven’t been able remove it.

I now live with mindful regrets that I’ll never be able to write his name on another call list.

Oh, he was proud of CART providers and captioners, our skills, how we help people. Balty was our biggest fan.

I want you to know this about Balty. He was special to so many people for so long.

I believe that Balty Janacek is greeting his family, friends, and strangers with a peace sign, spelling his name, sharing laughter and beautiful song.

About Monette Benoit, B. B.A., Paralegal, CCR, CRI, CPE, CART Captioner, Instructor, Public Speaker, Consultant, Columnist: Since 1990, Monette is the multiple-title author of books & Purple Books test prep. Co-author, Emmett Donnelly, earned his B.S. in English; languages, Latin, Greek, German; sciences; and his M.Ed.- working with SATs and ACTs for decades.

Monette, an experienced 35+ year court reporter, has taught multiple theories, all academics, speed classes, and 225-homeroom within NCRA-approved schools and community college. Daughter of educators, Monette understands challenges in our multi-faceted, growing industry.

In 1993, she CART captioned for a Deaf mass, San Antonio, Texas. Wonderful opportunities presented from Big D, Little D, Oral Deaf, HOH – special moments.

Monette Benoit has worked with thousands of professionals, students, instructors. She’s worked to create new court reporting programs, worked with federal grants, assisted instructors in developing curriculum for in-class and online students. Years ago, she was named the Court Reporting Whisperer by court reporting students and reporters.

Her confidential tutoring, coaching, has assisted thousands to advance with specific, custom-designed guidance!

Monette’s Musings is an informative, motivational blog for busy individuals seeking to create success –and– to enjoy this special path. Monette’s goal IS your success.

“Purple-Up” to Advance Skills. Pass NCRA and State exams the 1st time with Purple Books Sets.

Retesting = Pricey. Purple Books: “Done in One” 98% successful pass, evidenced by thousands of students, novice and veteran professionals who pass NCRA’s RPR, State CSR, and NCRA RDR, 30+ years. Testimonials, Details: www.CRRbooks.com.

An American RealTime/Captioning Services, LLC: www.ARTCS.com Monette may be contacted www.CRRbooks.com – Monette.purplebooks@CRRbooks.com Blog: www.monettebenoit.com

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25 Apr 2022

CART: Up-Skills For The Job, And Confidence For The Future with Michelle Coffey, Ireland

Author: monette | Category: Uncategorized

CART: Up-Skills For The Job, And Confidence For The Future with Michelle Coffey, Ireland
By Monette Benoit, All Rights Reserved.

Michelle Coffey, Premier Captioning & Realtime Ltd., entered reporting in 1992. She earned her NCRA RPR in 1996, and her CRI in 2001.

Michelle also holds a degree in criminal psychology and diploma in counseling from the University College Dublin in Ireland.

Michelle Coffey and I met in Australia in 2000 when I was keynote speaker for the Shorthand Reporter Association of Australia, SRAA.

In Fremantle, I spoke about reporting, streaming to the Internet and also working with deaf/Deaf, oral deaf and hard of hearing, HOH.

My seminars were realtimed to a large screen and sign interpreted in Australian sign language, a first.

Our friendship began the day we spoke on a captioning panel. She has the brightest spirit. Michelle truly enhanced the session with her wisdom and humor.

Several days later, we bumped into each other – deep within the Australian Bush. A small world indeed.

Michelle Coffey has been a true leader in Ireland. She has a wonderful can-do attitude. When I see her name in my e-mails, I smile knowing “this is going to be entertaining and good.” Michelle was the first captioner in Ireland.

No surprise here that she has led another first in her country. I am honored to share Michelle Coffey’s first CART path within Ireland.

Michelle Coffey, RPR, CRI: I’m proud to say that Ireland was there at the beginning of court reporting, that is Ward Stone Ireland, who is generally accepted to be the inventor of the stenograph keyboard, as we know it today. But in modern-day Ireland the court reporting profession is under threat, from electronic recording and declining numbers of experienced professionals.

Ireland has a very different court-reporting environment to that of the United States. In Ireland we have a reasonably small number of court reporters; however, we also have a small number of courts in which to work. But when, in the last 18 months, a large portion of the courts moved over to electronic recording, we saw a massive reduction in the amount of available work for the reporters. This caused panic, with many reporters questioning what they were going to do now? How were they going to earn enough money?

All the ‘hard’ questions came to the fore.

We were left with a decision, whether to wade into the ever-shrinking marketplace and vie for work there, or to venture out into an area as yet untried in the Irish market.

The question of whether to stay in a declining marketplace, where everyone will undoubtedly face a decrease in earnings, or to look to a new opportunity which would leave the status quo relatively intact, was simple.

Our answer was CART.

And so, after many months of negotiations, explanations and demonstrations, we are proud to announce that the first-ever CART services have begun in Ireland.

Prior to this, a cart was something pulled by a horse; Irish CART services did not exist. Well, they didn’t!

But once we set out on this road we were determined to change that. So our first job was to engage with the different types of service providers already in this field.

We spoke to Irish Sign Language interpreters, to Speedtexters, and to note-takers, and in the process we all learned a lot about the pros and cons of all the services.

Next, we spent some time talking to different interest groups, from the National Association for the Deaf, to DeafHear (a hard-of-hearing association), to Irish Deaf Kids, all the way through to the access officers at educational institutions.

And at each point, when we did our “show and tell” the response was always the same, “This is fantastic, why haven’t we heard of it before?”

But the most important people we met were the students who were with us on this new road of discovery. And it was never far from our minds as we prepared for the beginning of term, that the weight of expectation on us was enormous; from the students that they would get a service appropriate to their needs; from the colleges that we would provide a suitable access solution for their students; and from ourselves and the up-and-coming CART reporters, that we prove that CART services can, and should, be an integral part of accessibility services for all educational establishments in Ireland.

However, much more telling and – proof that this service is necessary and will be a success is a statement from Emma, the first student to take up the service.

After having only two sessions with a CART provider, she had this to say, “I can’t believe the difference CART has made to my life.

Did you know that I began this degree course four years ago but had to drop out because I couldn’t participate in my PBL (peer-based learning) lectures?”

Well, we didn’t know that, but it certainly makes it much easier to study and up-skill for the job when you hear that what you do can has such a profound effect on someone else’s life!

And it was never far from our minds as we prepared for the beginning of term, that the weight of expectation on us was enormous; from the students that they would get a service appropriate to their needs; from the colleges that we would provide a suitable access solution for their students; and from ourselves and the up-and-coming CART reporters, that we prove that CART services can, and should, be an integral part of accessibility services for all educational establishments in Ireland.

However, much more telling and – proof that this service is necessary and will be a success is a statement from Emma, the first student to take up the service.

After having only two sessions with a CART provider, she had this to say, “I can’t believe the difference CART has made to my life.

Did you know that I began this degree course four years ago but had to drop out because I couldn’t participate in my PBL (peer-based learning) lectures?”

Well, we didn’t know that, but it certainly makes it much easier to study and up-skill for the job when you hear that what you do can has such a profound effect on someone else’s life!

Another fan of the newly available Irish CART services is Caroline Carswell, founder of Irish Deaf Kids, a charity supporting inclusive mainstream education for deaf children in Ireland.

Caroline was new to CART, and its simplicity blew her away.

She said, “For the first time in my life, I could follow a group discussion word for word and contribute without risking a non sequitur. For lip-readers, the law of multiples applies: the more speakers in a group, the harder a discussion topic becomes to follow. It’s like, Chinese whispers, anyone?”

Now, as we look back on our journey to get CART recognized in Ireland, we think “How did we do it?”

Well, did you ever have the feeling that being a member of an organization, whether it’s CARTWheel or the NCRA, is like being a Musketeer? You know, “One for all and all for one”?

Well, that’s exactly how I felt, but the Athos, Porthos and Aramis to my d’Artagnan were some of the most experienced and supremely talented people in our profession. They each gave of their time, expertise and encouragement, instantly and unstintingly when I needed it.

My eternal thanks, and admiration to Dayette Zampolin, Gayl Hardeman and Monette Benoit for their help, advice, vision, encouragement, and even offers to jump in and help out (remotely of course) if we needed it!

Does that not speak volumes about our profession?

Even though our work can be a solitary job, we know that we will never be alone when there are still so many passionate and generous colleagues out there.

And that gives me confidence for the future of our profession!

Michelle Coffey may be reached: www.pcri.ie and michelle@pcr.ie

——————————————————-

“Purple-Up” to Advance Skills. Pass NCRA and State exams the 1st time with Purple Books Sets.

Retesting = Pricey. Purple Books: “Done in One” 98% successful pass, evidenced by thousands of students, novice and veteran professionals who pass NCRA’s RPR, State CSR, and NCRA RDR, 30+ years. Testimonials, Details: www.CRRbooks.com.

About Monette Benoit, B. B.A., Paralegal, CCR, CRI, CPE, CART Captioner, Instructor, Public Speaker, Consultant, Columnist: Since 1990, Monette is the multiple-title author of books & Purple Books test prep. Co-author, Emmett Donnelly, earned his B.S. in English; languages, Latin, Greek, German; sciences; and his M.Ed.- working with SATs and ACTs for decades.

Monette, an experienced 35+ year court reporter, has taught multiple theories, all academics, speed classes, and 225-homeroom within NCRA-approved schools and community college. Daughter of educators, Monette understands challenges in our multi-faceted, growing industry.

In 1993, she CART captioned for a Deaf mass, San Antonio, Texas. Wonderful opportunities presented from Big D, Little D, Oral Deaf, HOH – special moments.

Monette Benoit has worked with thousands of professionals, students, instructors. She’s worked to create new court reporting programs, worked with federal grants, assisted instructors in developing curriculum for in-class and online students. Years ago, she was named the Court Reporting Whisperer by CR students and reporters.

Her confidential tutoring, coaching, has assisted thousands to advance with specific, custom-designed guidance!

Monette’s Musings is an informative, motivational blog for busy individuals seeking to create success –and– to enjoy this special path. Monette’s goal IS your success.

An American RealTime/Captioning Services, LLC: www.ARTCS.com Monette may be contacted www.CRRbooks.com – Monette.purplebooks@CRRbooks.com Blog: www.monettebenoit.com

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15 Jan 2022

You, Ken-Tu, And The Mockingbird

Author: monette | Category: captioning prep, CART provider, Coach, court reporter certification, Court Reporter Tutor, CRRbooks.com, Life Coach, NCRA Court Reporters, Uncategorized, Written Knowledge Test

You, Ken-Tu, And The Mockingbird

~~ Originally published in my column “Beyond The Comfort Zone” within NCRA’s Journal of Court Reporting, JCR
By Monette Benoit, All Rights Reserved

Some days are not dull. I swear my life could be a sitcom. This is only one gem when silliness seemed to unfold at record pace.

I view many ‘life lessons’ as I read forums and e-mails from court reporters and reporting students. Respectfully, I share my life lesson below.

My sister-in-law appeared with nephews and skateboarding teens. She needed help closing her car’s trunk because the key had broken inside the lock.

(Schools were closed for the swine flu. Locally, skateboarding kids gathered in ‘teen pods’ [my term] – pretending to cough on each other, while laughing at ‘the’ adults.) That is the moment a cat appeared from the heavens on her car roof as we worked to help her close the trunk, so she could drive home.

In the driveway, a nephew gasped and pointed, “Hey! Where did that cat come from? It catapulted from the sky!”

The cat was bleeding with multiple fresh wounds on both sides of its neck and back.

Then the cat raced into our garage. Immediately, ‘cat’ sat with its front paws pointed ‘to’ the exact spot where [then] husband said a few hours earlier, “I wish I could do something about that mouse in the garage!”

That first night, still in the garage, I sat with him. The cat placed a warm, dead mouse near my feet. How do I know? I picked it up. Yes, eugh.

He did not understand any words except “stop that.” I did not want to name him Stop That.

I spoke to him saying, “You-ken-tu” and “He-ken-tu” as I observed the cat, considered adopting this wounded animal. Perhaps someone was missing their pet? I named the cat Ken-Tu.

The vet shared Ken-Tu is eight years old and had been “homeless at least one year – possibly more, based upon deformed ears, ear mites and bulbous tumor that exploded, creating a cauliflower ear.” He also shared that the cat had old wounds, scars, and had been used “in fights.” The vet said solemnly, “Based on what I see – NO one is looking for ‘this’ cat.” Of course, I hugged the new cat in our family. Ken-Tu ‘healed’ in the garage (post a huge vet bill).

Years ago, I volunteered with the St. Vincent de Paul Society, SVDP, as a caseworker. I also volunteered to assist in the initial organization of a new no-kill animal shelter (rescuing wild and abandoned animals) and a new women’s shelter. I learned many ‘life lessons’.

Each event was a teacher, to me.

For years, I filled my car for families, children, rest homes, churches, and hospitals helping a wide area. I then delivered donations and offerings to individuals and churches.

(Also, I learned that damaged clothing, items, could be donated to the State hospital. There, long-term patients were rewarded for positive behavior in the psych ward. Items that needed repairing were ‘repaired’ by other patients learning ‘life skills’. When ‘fixed’, those items were placed in the hospital thrift store. Positive behavior was rewarded with coupons. Coupons presented new gifts for the patients. To me, win/win! I added the State hospital and their staff to the list. We had great fun.) Life lessons were plentiful …

The weekend I’m documenting with Ken-Tu, I was assisting my cat Chicos, a special spirit, who was in kidney failure for eight months. I softly teased people that I was the hand-maiden who shared food in syringes and “closed the deal.” (We have rituals; cats love rituals.) I administered IV subcu fluids, as needed. I knew that Chicos and I were rounding another one-way corner.

The court reporters and students whom I privately tutored and coached reached out to me. I know Chicos’ life was extended as others shared their personal experiences and their wisdom.

Soon on a Sunday, we decided to bring Ken-Tu into the humble house, which already had two cats and one 70-pound, two-year old dog (all rescued animals). Ken-Tu was in the laundry room, snarling as needed. At 17 pounds – our ‘starving kitty’ was a force. (Because of abuse – with little provocation – he swung overhand.)

That afternoon – just prior to bringing the cat ‘in’ from the outdoors – my husband went to the store. Upon each return, I know he usually rushes in with the groceries. In my worry that he would trip over Ken-Tu (who was passionately vaulting head first into the laundry door to get back into the garage) – I opened the laundry room door to avoid a collision with then husband and this cat.

Thus, silliness begins.

Ken-Tu sprinted through the garage to the front yard. Husband stopped, his arms loaded with groceries.

I immediately went after Ken-Tu, but I’m not as fast as the mockingbird in our front yard. (Within the garage, Ken-Tu stood on a car roof looking through the window at that bird. The bird flew by the window and appeared to be well aware that a cat was watching. Oh yes.)

Immediately, the mockingbird began diving Ken-Tu’s head, Beak first. I headed for ‘escaped’ cat, avoiding all eye contact with husband.

The cat darts for cover – in the neighbor’s large hedges. Husband was cussing. It’s Texas hot; he immediately departed for Lowe’s – “to return later.” Husband drove off; did not look back.

With my arms outstretched, I called Ken-Tu. The mockingbird never dove for me but flushed the cat out of the neighbor’s hedges. The cat scampered, low to the ground – racing into my yard, and under our hedges. As I tried to retrieve this cat, Ken-Tu accurately swatted me.

In realtime, I remembered that neighbors might be watching – I’m in my short shorts bent over this cat in my front yard. I can just imagine someone saying, “Yes, and she hit that kitty.” (No one could see the scratches ‘leaking’ small amounts of blood.)

I refrained from hitting the cat, which was swinging overhand with two paws after he rolled in dirt around all hedges.

I refocused on trying to coax cat back into our garage – until my meter goes off – and then I’m done.

I lowered the garage door to the height a ‘starving’ cat could return to his food. Done. I returned into house. The kung-fu kitty was on its own.

Soon, I feel guilty. I sit in an uncomfortable lawn chair within my garage, reading my JCR, Journal of Court Reporting, calling Ken-Tu until ‘that’ becomes silly.

The entire time, I can tell exactly where Ken-Tu was because of the mockingbird and its shrieks. That bird was working to injure that cat – feathers flew.

Later, I heard the garage open; husband does not immediately enter. When he did, this husband was ‘not’ happy.

Red-faced, slowly (perhaps to contain anger?) he asked, “Did you know the mockingbird was in the garage when I pulled my car in?”

Me: “WHAT!?”

Husband: “Yes, dear, it was in, flying all over the garage.”

Me: “That can’t be. I left the garage door cracked just a little.”

He: “Then that bird followed Ken-Tu. The cat was lying on his towel licking himself. The bird was flying into the walls and the ceiling. When I opened the door, it became trapped within the small space between the garage door and ceiling.”

Me: “WHAT!?”

He: “Yes, then – I had to get a broom.”

Me: “WHAT!?” (I could not keep a straight face.)

He: “The bird was frantic. It was throwing itself around, hurting itself.”

Me: “Really???”

He: “So, I had to use the broom. Open the door to the side yard. Move the mower and yard equipment. And sweep that bird out the side door – not an easy job – as it became more frantic.”

Me: “Maybe that bird will move? Where’s Ken-Tu?”

He: “Asleep in the garage. What the hell were you thinking?”

Ken-Tu strolled in, as if on cue, moved to the dining room and began pre-emptive screaming. If something looked at him, Ken-Tu screamed.

And the large dog? You don’t want to know.

Soon Ken-Tu moved into the bedroom. Woah, daddy! Did kitty spit and hair fly.

But as life rolled itself forward, events calmed down. Ken-Tu now spends his time in the dead armadillo pose.

As we prepare for the holidays, I wish you great peace and the ability to laugh at some of your/our silliness. I know ‘you-ken-tu’ grow from life’s lessons.

The day before I submitted this series, Chicos died in my arms.

I want to share with you that I continue to learn multiple lessons from this one question: “Is my life better from this experience?”

My answer today is ‘yes’ regarding Chicos and yes, Ken-Tu.

And the mockingbird? It’s back – singing, not screaming, perched on the garage roof.

Now I ask you, “What makes your experiences and your life lessons better?”

About Monette: Monette Benoit, an experienced 35+ year court reporter, has taught multiple theories, all academics, speed classes, and 225-homeroom within NCRA-approved schools and community college. Daughter of educators, Monette understands challenges in our multi-faceted, growing industry.

In 1993, she CART captioned for a Deaf mass, San Antonio, Texas. Wonderful opportunities presented from Big D, Little D, Oral Deaf, HOH, hard-of-hearing individuals – special moments.

Monette has worked with thousands of professionals, students, instructors. She’s worked to create new court reporting programs, worked with federal grants, assisted instructors in developing curriculum for in-class and online students. Years ago, she was named the Court Reporting Whisperer by CR students and reporters.

Her confidential tutoring, coaching, has assisted thousands to advance with specific, custom-designed guidance!

Monette’s Musings is an informative, motivational blog for busy individuals seeking to create success –and– to enjoy this special path. Monette’s goal IS your success.

An American RealTime/Captioning Services, LLC: www.ARTCS.com Monette may be contacted www.CRRbooks.com – Monette.purplebooks@CRRbooks.com Blog: www.monettebenoit.com

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20 Oct 2021

CARTing ‘Up And Out’ And Captain Kevin

Author: monette | Category: CART/captioning, HCV, Hep C, HV with HCV, Kevin Drue Donnelly, Kevin's Sister, NCRA RPR Test Prep WKT skills RMR RDR CSR CCR, religious events

CARTing ‘Up And Out’ And Captain Kevin
By Monette Benoit

~~ Originally published in my column “Beyond The Comfort Zone” within NCRA’s Journal of Court Reporting, JCR
By Monette Benoit, All Rights Reserved

Now and then we’re granted special events we remember for a long, long time. Some can be confidential.

The jobs I’m writing about here were not your typical day at the office.

Originally I wanted special CART (communication access realtime translation, instant voice to text) moments to remain private.

Then my life shifted; it was altered.

Two weeks after the 2000 San Diego installation of NCRA, National Court Reporters Association, president Mike Brentano, my world changed forever.

I received the call that no one wants.

My terminally ill youngest (he hated the word ‘baby’) brother died August 5th, 2000.

Still serving in Army Reserves, Captain Kevin was privately diagnosed with hepatitis C, HCV, December 23, 1997.

After his diagnosis, Kevin learned that in 1976 he was infected during experiment vaccinations in the military. Documented. Proven. A. Fact.

A hospital ward was cleared for the arrival of his troop – before they arrived. Documented. Proven. A. Fact.

Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly passionately spent day and night researching, assisting veterans, their families and medical researchers. He died suddenly, tragically alone.

Many court reporters knew of my brother’s illness and his work.

At my request, Kevin also helped veterans, family members, deaf, hard-of-hearing individuals and court reporters (and members of their families) each diagnosed with HCV.

Kevin encouraged everyone, researched information specific for each person, so they could move forward with hope and facts.

Kevin also worked to develop the first Hepatitis C Support Forums.

Captain Kevin documented and proved that the HCV, hep C, virus and other viruses are shared by pneumatic guns, which routinely shared the same needles with multiple soldiers and individuals. Depression is a side of effect of Hep C, and as many know, depression is an often misunderstood illness.

Kevin designed a website that he and LeighAnn Vogel built to assist veterans, families, professionals and children of diagnosed individuals. Some of Kevin’s work may be accessed now www.captainkevindonnelly.com

The web site Kevin and LeighAnn built was the first private web site to be attached by the VA, Veterans Administration, sharing information Kevin gathered to specifically veterans and their families.

The afternoon of his death, prior to the call, my family gathered with my dad to help Dad’s recovery from cancer surgery. We did not then know that Dad, served in the Army, would be diagnosed with hepatitis C, also.

Due to dad’s surgery and recuperation, I flew alone to Kevin’s funeral.

August 10th, 2000, in Calverton Cemetery, a military graveyard, I waited in the noon sun for his casket to be delivered to the empty hole in the ground – I learned after standing ‘there’ that the gravediggers ‘had gone’ to lunch.

I stared at the lime green chalk with a number marked on a cement wall inside the ‘hole’ – the number was the cemetery plot marker before his casket arrived in a dark purple 18-wheeler.

I humbly share that it was the comfort of mentors, court reporters, National Court Reporters Association staff, and kind strangers who strengthened me.

I canceled my JCR, Journal of Court Reporting, “Beyond The Comfort Zone” column from one airport, stood on long lines alone.

Stunned, I phoned a few friends as I waited to board planes.

My court reporting friends insisted I go. They said: You. Must. Go. You. Must. Witness. You know how to listen. Go. Listen. As you promised Kevin.

Yes, we court reporters have mastered listening, watching. Decades. Centuries we have used our well-honed listening skills to accurately document.

When I did not check in with one reporter, the court reporter was going to phone another reporter “living near the cemetery to go out there and find you. Thank God you phoned… You and I both know the reporter would have found you. We find necessary details. You know…” (One of the few giggles I had for the ‘burial’ was that moment. Yes, court reporters are focused.)

I found the words and courage from others to buck-me-up for what I saw, heard, viewed…

They helped me to go, stand tall, listen, fly home, then find sense of my world – especially when I learned the wrong rank had been placed on his tombstone by his grieving widow – an Army reservist veteran RN, a nurse who had filed for divorce. Divorce hearing was the day Kevin died, I am told. Ouch.

Even court reporters – and I – were stunned by ‘that’. Yes, I documented. Yes, I have pictures. Yes, the tombstone was fixed to his correct rank: Captain. Yes, at taxpayers’ expense.

When none of Kevin’s research was returned to the Hep C community – and when the community offered to buy “only computer address work” for his work, research, I placed all the data (learned that word from Kevin) on the floor, like he had done one day.

I began to move pieces of paper along the floor. Same as Kevin when he saw his military records had been ‘doctored’ from the copy he was mailed after his HCV diagnosis and the medical military records he was given years before. Another. Fact.

When my grieving parents were hurt by other moments, I got up off that floor – like Kevin did. And I went to work. In short, I ‘got’ busy. As I had promised Kevin. “If you can, will you?” His exact words. Often.

As I discovered shocking details I left the court reporting field. I focused, like Kevin did. And I was helped by people who wanted their messages, facts to be public – yes, as Kevin was helped.

And each year I began to write updates on the day Kevin died – sharing more, more, and more – because people would not return his work. My focus was to ensure accurate facts were facts. Others? Not so much. Their ‘sentences’ – they wanted – lies. I focused on truth.

I leaned into the wind.

I remembered the promises to Kevin.

Due to the facts that were delivered to me, in the inaccurate manner they were,I made a decision that I never would have made without such c-r-a-p.

I focused on truth. I was able to document facts, truth. And my life shifted in directions I never saw possible prior to August 5, 2000.

During the quiet time, I experienced many incidents that spurred me to write this article.

I am honoring those moments. And now I have a special message to share.

Traditionally, my CART, communication access real-time translation (instant voice-to-text display on a computer) request assists deaf, hard-of-hearing, people learning English, etc.

But I received a unique request many moons ago.

They wanted CART and a verbatim disk immediately thereafter. Fine.

The consumer was not deaf or hearing challenged. Fine.

I was requested because “sometimes high energy field surges blow out electricity recording the event.”

Excuse me?

I needed more information.

The person scheduling the event was a medium, a clairvoyant.

The client wanted to speak to a dead relative. (Yes, like you, I paused a little there too.)

They requested CART captioning for an instant verbatim text record.

Could I write on battery to prevent electrical blips?

In court I wrote hearings, motions. Was the plaintiff really injured?

I wrote jury trials.

Was the defendant, alleged criminal, in fact, innocent?

I know they are innocent until proven guilty, but officers of the court (almost always) are entitled to information that the jury often may not receive.

We know information is almost always retained by prosecutors, police, judges – details that are not delivered.

I still remember the divorce law firm that nailed everything down – stapler, sofa cushions, books, etc.

I felt ‘safer’ in criminal court than the one and only divorce deposition I ever reported. Nope. I was scared that entire deposition as emotions – were – extreme.

I did not judge others when my skills were used in depositions, hearings, court, more… Was this different?

I thought about seven years of CART captioning deaf masses, PTA/school meetings, religious events, university Latin classes, the McGruff Dog (he had paw surgery, so he could sign to the deaf children), country dancing lessons, funerals, conventions, where I felt privileged to share CART captioning. They required instant verbatim text delivery.

I thought about friends who would scream if they knew.

I envisioned my mom smiling, praying; my Jesuit-schooled father sighing, glancing skyward.

With an open mind, lots of prayer, I accepted.

I entered terms in my job dictionary to include psychics, mediums, shamans, metaphysical, tarot, clairvoyants, mystics and yes, I entered the term: ghostbusters.

I realtimed with the screen turned down, charged batteries to avoid electrical problems.

The ‘reading’ began with prayer, moved quickly into personal information.

Pets, nicknames, childhood memories, favorite foods were shared before communication began.

I remember holding my breath – concerned sudden inhales could invade their privacy.

I ended with wonder (and some shock).

Everyone was so thankful I shared my CART captioning skills. I’d been part of something very personal.

I received other calls.

Each different; each adhered to a Code of Ethics. And, yes, I continued to pray and attend church.

As a result of that work, I received a CART captioning request for a telephonic medical intuitive.

Their appointment had been scheduled two years earlier. This was a medical doctor with a PhD. using psychic abilities to ‘read’ problems from the past and future for someone’s heath.

Again, I charged batteries, globaled, moved forward.

Later, I CARTed captioned a homicide detective sharing a file report.

I am convinced that when someone asks for any verbatim record, a court reporter is the necessary professional.

I tease that as an experienced court reporter I can write anything spoken and/or mumbled.

CART captioners can bring comfort to people who are grieving. When CARTing funerals for who are hard-of-hearing and/or deaf children and adults, I experienced peace while sharing so others could participate.

We can assist with closure involving people close to the center.

I feel privileged to sit at the edge of the circle, to hear what I did.

Faith is personal.

Messages are private.

My brother died young and sadly, much too fast.

He is no longer here to share laughter, to guide me with his courage, wisdom, friendship, and wicked sense of humor with his ‘only’ sister.

Kevin will never send a funny or informative email I could keep or could choose to share with friend, court reporters, and mentors.

I draw comfort from my quiet moments, from those with insights, loving guidance.

We can instantly realtime anything… verbal, spiritual and, now I know, even spirits.

I’m grateful for spiritual moments, for hearing ‘Up and Out’ utilizing CART captioning with an open mind and an open heart.

My work is still private.

My life is forever changed due to my CART captioning skills, the death of my brother, and the possibilities I want to share with each of you.

Further information about Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly is included www.captainkevindonnelly.com

Why? I gave him my word.